I wrote 5,000 words on Friday, 7,000 yesterday, and 4,000 today. This is because I am on the verge of finishing my next book. Overcome by a desire to reach the end, it feels like a fever that will not rest until I write the conclusion. Typing as fast as my fingers can go, I feel frustration when I cannot keep up with the story. I start the last chapter, and a surge of urgency speeds my hands. At last I bring the conflict to a close. Then I type the last word and lean back, my emotions crowding for attention. Triumph, relief, and excitement are all overcome by the same thing . . . Hunger.
When was the last time I ate? This morning? Last night? I don't know. Leaving my book behind I start a new quest, the quest for sustenance. It starts in the kitchen, and ends with food being crammed into my mouth. One flavor dominates every bite.
And it tastes like victory.